


Unexpected Complications

by clgfanfic



Series: War of the Worlds - The Next Generation [2]
Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 03:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harrison discovers he has family after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Complications

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #13 under the pen name Laura Grigsby.

_"I wasn't really afraid of someone else dying, I was just afraid of hurting like that again."_

 

          Colonel Paul Ironhorse rounded the secretary's desk.  Stopping outside the closed door, he tugged his Class-A jacket down, straightened his tie, then knocked.  Formalities done, he opened the door and stepped inside.

          General Henry J. Wilson looked up, wearing a closed expression revealing nothing about the reason the soldier had been summoned.

          "Come in, Colonel," the older man said.  "Have a seat."

          Ironhorse walked hesitantly across the thickly carpeted floor of General Wilson's Pentagon office and lowered himself into the leather chair across from the polished cherry desk.

          Wilson waited until Paul was settled before continuing.  "Sorry to pull you away from the meeting, but I'm sure Dr. Blackwood and Suzanne can handle the Joint Chiefs for a while."

          "Yes, sir, I'm sure they can," Ironhorse replied, his thoughts digging through the possible reasons why the general might need to talk to him alone.  Alien activity in December had been light, and the first few days of the new year had passed without any new activity.  Like the year before, the Project members were in Washington to present their case to the Joint Chiefs, bringing them up to date on the status of the covert war and hoping to wring more aid from the government.

          "Colonel, let me get right to the point," Wilson said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his forearms on the polished desktop.  "It's about Dr. Blackwood.  It seems that a lawyer in California would like to locate him.  When he contacted the New Pacific Institute of Technology, Dr. Jacobi followed the protocol and contacted security at Ft. Streeter.  They contacted me and I spent the better part of this morning speaking to him."

          Ironhorse straightened in his seat.  He knew he wasn't going to like what the general said next.

          "After I spoke to Mr. Marshall, I contacted Dr. Jacobi and Sylvia van Buren to check some details…"  Wilson stood, pacing across his thick burgundy carpet to the window.  "It appears that we have a problem on our hands, Paul."

          "What is it, sir?" the colonel asked.  Wilson was stalling, and that made Ironhorse nervous.  It wasn't like him.

          "It appears that Blackwood has a cousin that he was unaware of – a boy, fifteen, recently orphaned."

          Ironhorse's eyebrows gathered at the bridge of his nose like storm clouds.  "I don't see the problem, sir."

          "Dr. Blackwood might not know about the boy, or his parents, but the boy's father was aware of Blackwood.  In his will the boy's father made provisions for Blackwood's notification should something like this happen.  And, as the boy's only next of kin, the lawyer was asking if Blackwood would be willing to take legal guardianship.  If not, he'll be placed in the child services system and assigned to a foster home, if one's available.  If not, he'll be institutionalized."

          Ironhorse leaned back in his chair.  Now he saw the problem.  If Blackwood knew he was the only relative the boy had, he'd take on the responsibility.  That would mean taking the boy to the Cottage, and the last thing they needed was a strange teenager trying to get to know a cousin he'd never met – a cousin leading a covert war against invading aliens from outer space.

          "What would you like me to do?" he asked Wilson.

          "I told Mr. Marshall you'd drop by his office and hear what he has to say.  You know Blackwood better than I do.  Listen to what the man tells you and decide the best way to break the news to Dr. Blackwood."

          "And if he decides to bring the boy in?"

          Wilson shrugged.  "The man has no family, or at least he thinks he doesn't.  I can't see hiding the truth from him, can you?  I suppose we could—"

          Ironhorse shook his head.  "No, sir, but this could disrupt the Project and I don't want to see that happen either.  It's too important."

          "I realize that, Colonel.  Believe me.  I trust your judgment.  If Blackwood wants to take this on, and needs time, then we'll find a way to give it to him.  But I'd rather not see the effort suffer for personal reasons either.  Good luck," Wilson said with a slight smile as Ironhorse stood and left.

          "Thank you, sir," Paul said as he paused at the door.  "We might need it."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Colonel Ironhorse?" the lawyer asked, taking in the Class-A uniform and the large plate of ribbons and decorations on the officer's chest – impressive, to say the least.

          Paul nodded, entering the elegant but comfortable Carmell, California office.  Ethan Marshall was a distinguished looking man, his silver hair and deep tan making his age difficult to pinpoint, but late-sixties seemed like a good guess.  The slightly crooked smile and pale blue eyes were reassuring, for a lawyer.

          "Please, Colonel, have a seat.  My assistant will be in shortly with some coffee," Marshall said, walking over to slide into his padded swivel chair.  "I appreciate your coming to see me.  I had no idea that Dr. Blackwood was involved in anything like a top secret government project when this all began."

          "I'm sorry if this is an inconvenience," Ironhorse said, accepting a mug of coffee from the tray a young Hispanic woman carried in.  "But our security procedures are there to protect Dr. Blackwood."

          Marshall took his cup, whispered that he was not to be disturbed and settled back against his tooled leather chair.  "No, no trouble at all, Colonel.  I hope you'll bear with me here, but I'm afraid I have a rather lengthy story to tell you.  One that you need to hear if you're going to make a decision affecting not only Dr. Blackwood's life, but the boy's as well."

          "That's why I'm here, sir," the soldier said.

          "Good."  Marshall took a deep breath and began.  "Many years ago, when I first began practicing law, I represented the Pacific Institute of Technology and its employees.  Over the years I became very good friends with a Dr. James Blackwood, Harrison's father.  In 1951, when Harrison was two years old, I believe, James came to me and confessed that he and his wife were having problems in their marriage.  He asked me to look into what a divorce would entail.  I did, but he was having second thoughts and decided to wait.  About six months later James went down to Santa Barbara for a symposium.  He met a young woman down there, an astronomer.  They had a child together, Brandon, Harrison's half-brother.  James wanted the child to have his name, and asked me to add provisions for Brandon and his mother in his will."

          Marshall stood, walking to the full length windows that made up one wall of the office.  He paused, staring out at the Pacific as it rolled up the light sandy beach for a moment before continuing.  "When James was killed in 1953, Brandon's mother left Santa Barbara and returned to her family home in New Mexico.  Brandon never knew he had a half-brother, and while he grew up with the name 'Blackwood,' all he knew about his father was that he had been killed in 1953.

          "In 1969 Brandon served a tour in Vietnam.  He re-enlisted for a second tour in 1970.  He was sent home early after he was injured—"

          The expression on the colonel's face stalled the story and Marshall stopped.  "Something wrong, Colonel?"

          Ironhorse shook his head.  "No, sir."  So, Brandon Blackwood was Harrison's half-brother.  Interesting.  If Brandon's son was anything like his father…

          "Brandon met Nancy Wicket while she was a student nurse working at the VA and they married in 1972.  In 1976, Matthew James Blackwood was born.  He's fifteen.  He's a smart boy, quick and talented, but a little shy.  When Matthew was a baby there were some medical problems.  As it turned out, the doctor's misdiagnosed the condition, but their initial conclusions required Brandon to do some research into his past, in order to locate other relatives.  Brandon came to me, since I'd remained his mother's attorney and had handled James' estate…"  He flashed the colonel a brief smile.  "I'd also handled Dr. Forrester's adoption of Harrison."

          "If Dr. Forrester knew, why didn't he tell Harrison?" Ironhorse interrupted, shifting in his seat.

          Marshall walked back to his desk and leaned against it.  "Brandon's mother was a scientist.  She and Clayton never got along.  To be honest, I think Clayton was in love with Harrison's mother."  He shrugged.  "In any case, he never approved of James' decision to… how shall I say it?  Stay in contact with Brandon's mother?  I think it was that hostility that kept both of them silent."

          "Harrison's believed he was all alone, except for Dr. Forrester, all these years."

          Marshall nodded.  "Brandon's mother died without leaving me any instructions, but James had written into his will that, should Brandon or Harrison come looking for information, I was free to share what I could.  So, when Brandon came to me, asking about his father because of Matthew's illness, I told him about Harrison.  Brandon was torn, confused.  By the time he had made peace with the situation, and was ready to contact Harrison, the misdiagnosis was discovered and Matthew was out of danger."

          "Brandon didn't follow up.  Why?" the colonel questioned.

          "I honestly don't know.  When Matthew was small they found out that Nancy had cancer.  It was a slow and painful process, and she eventually died when Matthew was ten.  It was then that Brandon came to me and we made out his will.  He had decided not to contact Harrison, but, if anything were to happen to him before Matthew was an adult, he didn't want the boy to be without blood family.  Two years ago, Brandon remarried, but he and his second wife were both killed in an automobile accident.  It took me a while to track down Harrison, then I ran into you people," Marshall concluded.

          "And Matthew?"

          "He's been in the custody of Child Protective Services and.  Unfortunately, he's not dealing well with the situation.  He ran away from one foster home and was thrown out of another.  He's presently being kept at a juvenile facility."

          Ironhorse shook his head and sighed.  "And what exactly am I supposed to do, tell Blackwood he had a half-brother who had a son who's now orphaned and needs a home?"

          "I think that about covers it," Marshall said, walking back to take his seat.  He leaned back behind his desk.  "I don't really expect Harrison to adopt the boy, but I think Matthew needs an anchor.  There's a foster family who would very much like to take him in, the family he ran away from, in fact.  But they're not getting his cooperation."

          "Why'd he run?" Ironhorse asked suspiciously.

          "He's afraid to get close to anyone, or to let them get close to him.  Daniel and Shone Trevors are wonderful people, but Matthew isn't ready to give them – or maybe anyone – a chance."

          Ironhorse stood.  "All right, Mr. Marshall.  I'll talk to Blackwood, but I have to warn you, he might decide not to get involved."

          "That's what I need to know.  If Harrison decides not to become involved, then Matthew won't be told that he has a cousin, and things will work themselves out, one way or another.  But that's not the man I knew.  I still represent the New Pacific Institute, Colonel, and Harrison Blackwood might be… eccentric, but he's also a very honorable man."

          The two men stood and shook hands, Ironhorse walking back to his car, wondering what the astrophysicist's response would be.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Harrison?"

          Blackwood looked up from his journal, surprised to find Paul up so late.  "Colonel, something wrong?"

          Ironhorse entered and took a seat on the scientist's low couch.  "I'm afraid so."

          His face wrinkling into a concerned mask, Blackwood closed the journal, shifting his full attention to the soldier.  "Can I help?"

          Paul flashed the man a brief smile.  "I'm afraid this has more to do with you than me, Doctor."

          "Oh?"

          After a deep breath, Ironhorse relayed the facts that he'd learned from Marshall, then leaned back and waited for it to sink in.

          After several silent minutes, Blackwood pushed himself stiffly out of his chair and paced into the center of the room.  "My God," he breathed.  "I had a brother?  Why didn't Clayton tell me?  He knew what family meant to me."

          Ironhorse waited while Harrison walked over and dropped down to sit on the carpet in front of him, then explained about the friction between Clayton and Brandon's mother.

          Harrison nodded.  "I remember Clayton talking about her, but that was my _brother_."

          Leaning forward, Ironhorse rested a hand on Harrison's shoulder.  "What are you going to do?"

          The blue gaze snapped up, locking on the concerned black.  "I don't have an option, Colonel.  He's my cousin, the only blood relative I have."

          The black eyes narrowed.  "Harrison, I know this isn't really any of my business, but—"

          "If you're going to tell me he'll be a security risk—"

          "No, Doctor, that's _not_ what I was going to say," Ironhorse said, pulling his hand away and standing.

          Blackwood didn't miss the expression of hurt that crossed the man's face.  "I'm sorry," he apologized.  "That wasn't fair."

          "Pulling the boy into this… situation, might not be the best thing for him.  Mr. Marshall said that the first foster family was interested in making the arrangement permanent.  Maybe you should talk to them before you make any final decisions.  There's no reason why you can't be close to the boy, and still leave him a normal life."

          Blackwood weighed the words.  Ironhorse was thinking about the boy's welfare, and the realization surprised him.  He nodded.  "I think you might be right, Paul.  Thank you."

          Ironhorse nodded slightly.  "I'll make the arrangements.  Good night, Doctor."

          "Good night, Colonel.  And thank you."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Shone Daniels-Trevors was an attractive woman Blackwood concluded as he and the colonel followed her and her husband into the large living room of their Malibu home.  Her shoulder-length auburn hair and pale green eyes accented fine features.  He forced back a grin, wondering how many people had told the young woman that she looked like an elf.

          Shone left to get them all coffee while Dan explained, "Matt's a good kid, but he's hurting.  He's pulled back from everyone.  The more we tried to get in, the more he resisted."

          "Has he seen a counselor?" Ironhorse asked, studying the man and trying to decide what it was about him that tugged at the edges of his memories.

          Dan nodded.  "It's standard in cases like Matt's, but she isn't getting too far with him either."

          Shone, her hands full, returned, saying, "I'm just afraid that if we don't turn him around now, we'll lose him.  We're trying to get CPS to release him from Lorrester, the juvenile facility, and place him in a Challenger Program."

          "Challenger Program?" Harrison questioned, accepting one of the cups of coffee, and settling back against the couch.  It was obvious that these were good people, and that they honestly cared about Matthew.

          Shone smiled.  "It's a little complicated.  You see, there's a program for kids who've been in trouble with the authorities.  Most of the participants are from street gangs, but they take kids like Matthew, too.  My sister, Carsen, runs one of the shelters out of her home just up the road.  She has an ex-detective living there, too, who's involved with the kids…"  Shone paused, her gaze scrutinizing Ironhorse more closely.  "In fact," she said, "Manny looks a little like you, Colonel."

          The soldier's eyebrows rose slightly.

          "And," Dan picked up, "R.T. Hines, the coordinator of the program here, and Cynthia—"

          "R.T. Hines?" Ironhorse repeated.  "Ex-Marine captain?"

          Dan nodded with a smile.  "Yeah, Manny and I served in his unit in 'Nam.  Matt's father, too."

          Ironhorse nodded, realization finally hitting.  "I met Heins and Blackwood in the Delta."

          Dan shook his head.  "Nasty time."

          Harrison's head swiveled abruptly, his gaze locking on Ironhorse, but the colonel was apparently more interested in his coffee than the astrophysicist.  He'd definitely have a few questions for the colonel later.

          "That's one reason why we'd very much like to help Matt," Dan explained.  "I run a dojo, teach the kids martial arts.  That's something Heins got started.  It gets them in shape and teaches them self-confidence and discipline.  Carsen works the kids on her ranch, gives them responsibility and a chance to earn a little money."

          "She raises horses, so she needs the help," Shone added.  "Manny does counseling and I tutor to make sure all they have high school diplomas."

          "Sounds like a pretty amazing program," Blackwood said, impressed with their dedication.

          "Of course," Shone said softly, her gaze slipping to Dan, "we also think Matt's a pretty special boy.  He's bright and sensitive."  She looked back to the pair.  "We can't have children of our own, but working with these kids… well, let's just say Matt got in further than most…"  She trailed off, finishing with a soft, "We love him, Dr. Blackwood."

          Harrison nodded.  "Matthew's a very lucky boy."

          Dan leaned forward.  "We'll understand if you decide to adopt Matt, but I hope you'll allow us to see him.  We think Challenger can help him."

          Blackwood sat the empty cup down on the coffee table and twined his fingers together, staring at them as he explained.  "At the moment I'm…"  He slid a glance in the colonel's direction, but he was still studying his coffee cup.  Harrison was on his own.  "…I'm involved in some very important work for the government, and… and I'm afraid I wouldn't make a very good parent in any case."  He looked back to the anxious couple.  "I think you'd be much better parents than I ever would," he told them.  "But I'd like the opportunity to spend some time with my only living relative.  I might be able to help Matthew, too."

          "You mean you won't stop us from acting as Matt's foster parents?" Shone asked hopefully.

          Blackwood shook his head.  "No, I won't.  I think he'll be better off with you, provided that you'll allow me to see him," he said with a sad smile.

          Shone nearly squealed with delight as she threw her arms around her husband's neck and squeezed.  Dan laughed and hugged his wife in return.  When she pulled back, Dan stood, extending his hand to Harrison, who stood to shake hands with the man.  "Thank you, Dr. Blackwood."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse waited as the passengers on the flight from Los Angeles streamed into the San Francisco airport, individuals, pairs, and groups moving off to meet others waiting for them.  As the numbers began to dwindle off, the colonel spotted Matthew.

          The boy's appearance made the soldier smile.  Matthew James Blackwood was slightly tall for his age, thin, and wearing the same kind of circular glasses Harrison wore when he was forced to.  But it was the mass of unruly light brown curls and pale blue eyes that marked the shared blood.  Matthew and Harrison were both in for a surprise.

          "Matthew?" Ironhorse asked, stepping up alongside the boy.  The teenager sucked in a breath and jumped.  "I'm sorry if I startled you," the colonel apologized, watching the boy take in his BDU's and rank.  "I'm Lt. Colonel Paul Ironhorse.  I provide security for Dr. Blackwood and his people.  If you'll come with me, we'll get your luggage and—"

          "This is all I have," the boy said.

          Ironhorse noted the small duffle bag.  It appeared Matthew traveled light.  He nodded.

          "Then if you'll come with me, the car's this way," he said, heading outside to where Stavrakos waited.

          Dressed like Ironhorse in cammo-BDU's, the airport security had left the sergeant undisturbed.  Seeing the colonel, he climbed out and opened the trunk, saluting as the colonel reached the vehicle.  Matthew missed the grin that flashed across Ironhorse's face, but not the M-9 in the holster on Alex's hip.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Harrison, will you _please_ sit down," Suzanne pleaded, her gaze following the astrophysicist as he paced across the Cottage's living room for the millionth time that morning.  "They'll be here as soon as they can."

          "I know," Blackwood said, finally coming to rest in front of the blazing fireplace. "Maybe I should've gone with Ironhorse."

          Suzanne shook her head.  She had already said this four times, but maybe it would sink in the fifth time.  "Harrison, we have to impress the need for security on Matthew.  No one can do that as well as Paul can, but if you were there you'd—"

          "I know, I know, I know," Harrison said distractedly.

          "Mom!"

          Suzanne winced at the volume.  "De—"

          "The car's coming!"

          Harrison was already racing after the girl before Suzanne could climb off the couch to follow them.  "Children," she breathed, shaking his head.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse reached for the car doorknob, saying, "You can take the blindfold off now."

          Matthew reached up and pulled the black mask off of his eyes, trying not to look scared.  What was his uncle involved in?  He ground his teeth together.  He didn't care.  It didn't matter.  He wasn't staying anyway.  Dr. Harrison Blackwood didn't want him either.  Climbing out of the car, Matt accepted his duffle from the sergeant, his attention roving over the postcard-like grounds.

          "Hi!"

          Turning, Matthew took a step back as Debi skidded to a stop in front of him.

          "My name's Debi, you must be Matthew.  Do you ride horses?"

          Ironhorse suppressed a smile.  "Deb, why don't you let Matthew get settled in before you start the interrogation, okay?"

          Stavrakos grinned.  "I'll let the others know we're back, sir."

          Ironhorse nodded, knowing full well that the Omegans were well aware of the activities in their front yard.  "Thank you, Sergeant.  Dismissed."

          Motioning toward the house, the colonel stopped short of inviting the boy in as Harrison and Suzanne walked up to join them.  He didn't miss the stunned expression on the scientist's face.  "Matthew, this is Dr. Suzanne McCullough, Debi's mother, and Dr. Harrison Blackwood."

          Harrison stopped just behind Debi and stared at the boy.  It was like looking at a younger version of himself.  "Matthew," he said softly.  "I'm very happy to meet you."

          Two pairs of pale blue eyes locked for a moment.  "Yeah, right," was the boy's unbelieving reply.

          "Why don't you come in and Debi can show you where you'll be staying," Suzanne suggested.  She knew that look.  Blackwood was in for a real challenge.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          At dinner Debi managed to pry Matthew out of a determined silence and by the time they headed into the living room for desert he seemed to be starting to enjoy himself.  Pausing near the couch, he watched the others take what must be their usual seats.

          Norton Drake – who had a cool voice-activated wheelchair in the boy's opinion – was setting up a game of chess.  "Do you play?" he asked Matthew, who nodded.  "All right, new blood," the hacker said in his Jamaican best.  "Take a seat, mon."

          Suzanne and Debi stretched out along the couch with books, forcing Harrison into one of the wing-backed chairs while the colonel took a spot on the floor near the snapping fireplace.  He settled a book in his lap and began writing.  Blackwood, with his academic journal, settled into a chair.

          Matthew watched the group out of the corner of his eye as he tried to stay ahead of Norton's unpredictable chess strategy.  It was frustrating.  Before he stopped going to class he was the best chess player at his school, but nothing he did seemed to stop the hacker's steady destruction of his game.  Not for the first time Matthew wished he was back in school, back to living a normal life.

          But he couldn't have a normal life now.

          _Why'd they'd all have to die?_ he questioned for the umpteenth time.  He glowered across the room at Harrison.  And why'd he have to have a stupid cousin?

          Now he was stuck here until the man got tired of him.  Ironhorse had told him he couldn't leave, or use the phone without permission, or do _anything_.  It was just like being in jail – even if the food was better.

          Mrs. Pennyworth carried in a plate of warm spice cookies, coffee, and coco.

          "Will you tell us a story, Colonel?" Debi asked as she sipped on her drink.

          The officer looked up from his work and grinned.  "One of these days I'm going to run out of stories."

          "No, you won't," Debi dismissed.

          "Checkmate," Norton announced.

          Matthew's attention snapped back to the game and he cursed softly under his breath.

          Drake chuckled.  "It's not that bad, I'll give you a chance to get even on a couple of computer games I have."

          The boy nodded, his cheeks coloring slightly as he noticed the disapproving looks from the other three adults.  "I guess."

          Harrison stood, dropping his journal on the chair.  He met the boy's gaze.  "Why don't I show you my office?  We can talk," he said, standing.

          The boy climbed hesitantly to his feet.  Just what he needed…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Sit if you'd like," Harrison offered, going over to lean against his desk and watch the boy.

          "I'll stand," was the defiant reply.

          Blackwood frowned slightly, but didn't push.  "Look, I know this is hard.  I lost my parents, too, when I was five…  You're not alone."

          "Yes, I am," the boy countered.  "I don't know you.  I don't want to know you."

          "I'm afraid neither of us has a choice.  And, believe me, this is better than being alone."

          Matthew glared back defiantly, but Harrison could see the pain in the pale blue eyes and wondered if it was the same desperate agony Clayton had faced so many years before.  He crossed the room and sat on the low couch.  Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and tried to find a way to explain to a teenager what family meant.  "Matt, look—"

          "Matthew," the boy corrected.

          "Matthew," Harrison dutifully repeated.  "Neither of us wanted to end up alone," he started.  "And now we both have a chance to change that."  Concentrating on the carpet, he continued.  "When I was young I wanted a brother.  More than anything in the world, I wanted someone who knew me, knew my life.  A best friend, confidant, buddy…  I thought a brother would be best because he'd be close to my age and we could go off and do things together.  By the time I was your age I decided I wanted an uncle.  Someone I could talk to, who knew more than I did, who could answer all my questions and never hold them against me."

          Harrison glanced up, surprised to find that the boy was listening.  "Now," he said, carefully choosing each word, "now I often find myself wishing for someone like you."

          "Why?" Matthew asked, leaning back against Blackwood's desk and folding his arms across his chest.  "Why not a son?"

          Harrison smiled thinly and shook his head.  "I don't think I'd make a very good father.  My work keeps me too busy, and that wouldn't be fair."  He stood and walked to his desk, taking a seat in the leather swivel chair.  "But I think Debi would give me a good recommendation as a pseudo-uncle."

          "She lives here."

          Harrison nodded.  "Because her mother works here."

          Matthew considered the words.

          Leaning forward to rest his elbows in the desk, Harrison asked, "Why did you run away from the Trevors?"

          The boy crossed the room, taking Blackwood's abandoned place on the couch.  "I don't know," he admitted.  "I mean, they're nice enough."

          "But?"

          Matthew shrugged.  "I felt…"

          "Trapped?"

          "I guess."

          "Afraid?"

          Matthew thought a moment, then shrugged again.  "Maybe."

          Harrison stood and walked back to the couch, then sat on the floor, looking up at the boy.  "That's normal.  I think it took me years before I stopped waiting for Dr. Forrester to come home every evening.  I was so sure that, one day, he wouldn't."

          "Did he?" Matthew asked.  "Not come home."

          "No.  He always did."  He reached out and rested a hand on the boy's knee.  "Matthew, I want to get to know you.  I'd like a chance to be a cousin, an uncle to you, but the Trevors very much want to be your parents."

          "And you don't?"

          Harrison shook his head.  "If I thought I could, I would, but not now.  Not while I'm doing what I have to do."

          Matthew's expression closed.  "They're not my parents."

          "I know they're not, but they do love you.  Dr. Forrester could never replace my mother and father, but I did love him, and he loved me.  We made a family, together."

          The office door opened, the colonel leaning in.  "We have transmissions," he said, glancing briefly to Matthew.  "We can go without you."

          "No," Harrison said, standing.  He glanced down at the boy.  "All I ask is that you think about it.  I'll be back as soon as I can."

          Matthew watched Blackwood leave, wondering what his uncle did in the big house in the middle of nowhere.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          When Harrison returned, Debi and Matthew were already long in bed.  He stopped to check on the boy before he headed off for an overdue nap.  Matthew looked peaceful in sleep, the carefully constructed defenses gone.  Turning, the scientist tiptoed from the room.

          Suzanne met him in the hallway.  "He asleep?"

          Harrison nodded.  "This isn't going like I'd hoped it would."

          Reaching out, she gave his arm a squeeze.  "Hang in there.  He'll come around."

          "I'm not so sure.  He's independent, proud.  If he doesn't go back with the Trevors I'm afraid he'll end up institutionalized until he's eighteen."

          Suzanne shook her head.  "The system needs some fixes."

          "I agree."

          "Can you really let that happen?"

          "I don't know," Harrison said.  "And I don't know if I can do what I do if I'm worrying about a child."

          Suzanne gave the worried astrophysicist a quick hug.  "You'll do the right thing."

          "I hope you're right," he replied, both heading off to their bedrooms.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Matthew lay awake in his borrowed bed.  Adults thought they had all the answers.  But he wasn't going to let everybody decide what he was going to do.  And one thing was for sure – he wasn't going back to juvie-hall.  Ever.

          He rolled over and pulled his blanket up around his shoulder, curling into the warmth.  Tears burned behind his closed eyelids.  His hand snuck out to hug the second pillow closer as he tried to chase the loneliness away.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Matthew ran, his feet pounding into the loose sand that slowed his progress.  Farther down the beach he watched as three manta-ray-like ships climbed out of the ocean and swung slowly over the beach.

          He opened his mouth, trying to call out a warning, but the words blocked in his throat.  A burst of energy shot from the malevolent red eye atop a thin periscope like neck at the front of the craft.  The beam enveloped several people laying on the sand, their screams drowning out the surf.

          Matthew forced himself forward.  He could see Dan and Shone, sitting on a large blanket.  She was setting out a picnic.  Dan was checking their snorkeling equipment.  Despite the deep thrum of the craft that pulsed along the beach they seemed oblivious to the danger.

          His foot caught on a pile of seaweed and he fell.  A swarm of sand flies erupted, circling his face.  He waved a hand to try and chase them away.  The craft hovered closer to the two adults, and Matthew watched as Harrison walked up to join them.  Shone smiled and gestured for the man to sit and join them.  He did.

          "No!" Matthew cried, scrambling to his feet.  A crowd of teenagers cut him off, laughing and tossing a large beach-ball.  He stopped.  Didn't they know?  Couldn't they see the danger?

          Matthew shoved a girl out of the way and staggered forward.  The craft swung around, targeting the three adults on the blanket.

          "Run!" he yelled.  "Run!"

          With the last of his endurance Matthew drove forward as another shot of the beam envelope the threesome.  They screamed, the flesh burning and flaking off their bones.  Even when just their skeletons remained they continued to scream.

          Matthew stopped, unable to flee and unable to look away.

          Shone's boney hand reached out for him.

          "No!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "But you can't," Debi said, reaching out to grab the sleeve of Matthew's jacket.

          "I told you, I'm not stayin' here, and I'm _not_ going back to juvie, or anywhere else!" the teen snapped, starting again for the two horses, saddled and waiting.

          "But you can't take the horses," Debi argued, trotting along beside Matthew.  "You can't feed him, or take him off the beach."

          "I know that," the boy said.  "I'm just going to borrow him for a while.  When I get down the beach I'll turn him loose."

          The girl's blue eyes widened.  "Loose?"

          "Yeah, he'll come back here."  Reaching the two mounts, Matthew tugged the reins free from where they were loosely wrapped around the fence.

          "What if he doesn't?  What if he gets lost?  What if he gets to the road and gets hit by a car?"

          With a soft curse, Matthew retied the reins.  "Look, I'll leave him on the property, then, okay?  But one way or another, I'm leaving!"

          "What about me?" she demanded.

          He paused.  "You can come if you want to.  Probably beat living in this jail."

          "It's not a jail."

          "You can't leave, you can't use the phone, you can't do anything.  That's a jail."

          "It's not that bad.  You get used to it," she argued.  "And there's lots of things to do."

          "I'm _not_ staying."

          "Why?" Debi demanded, her hand coming to rest on his chest.

          "Because!" Matthew yelled.  "If I stay here— If I— I get people killed!"

          Debi pulled back, drawing herself up defiantly.  "And what about me, Matthew Blackwood.  I'm expendable?"

          Matt's mouth opened, closed, and opened again.  "I didn't mean that."

          "You said I can go.  That's what you said."

          "I know, but—"

          "But nothing," Debi snapped, her hands coming up to rest on her hips.  "Your parents loved you, didn't they?" she demanded.

          Matthew's head dipped.  "Yeah…"

          "And that family in Malibu, they love you, too, or they'd never ask to be permanent foster parents, would they."

          He shrugged.

          "Would they!?"

          "I guess they do."

          "And Harrison brought you here, and _nobody_ gets to come here.  He loves you, too.  And his parents are dead.  And Dr. Forrester's dead."

          "So?"

          "So maybe you should think about what it means when somebody loves you," she snapped.  "It's a whole lot better than when they don't.  And I know, because my dad doesn't love me, but my mom does, and Harrison, and Norton, and the colonel do, too.  And they're better dads than my real one!"

          With that she spun and stalked back toward the Cottage.  She paused several yards away and turned back to Matthew, yelling, "And if you run away you're just plain _stupid!_   And if you take the horses I'll pound you good!"  She whipped back around and continued on to the house.

          Matthew watched her go, then swung back to the horses.  He reached out, grabbing the reins.  Ulysses tossed his head.

          "Going for a ride?"

          Matthew flinched and turned.  The colonel regarded him neutrally.  "Uh, yeah," he lied.

          "Want some company?"

          "No," Matthew said.  "I'll be okay."

          "Well, I'm going to give Belle a workout, so I might as well show you the grounds at the same time."

          Matthew sighed.  There was no way he was going to escape with the soldier on his tail.  "I guess so."

          "Great," the colonel said, swinging into the saddle of Debi's mare.  "Follow me."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The twenty-five picturesque acres did little to lift Matthew's spirits.  The colonel remained silent, leaving the boy to mull over his own thoughts.  When they finally reached the beach that served as one boarder of the property, Ironhorse kicked the mare into a slow canter.  Matthew's gelding followed her, tossing his head.  Before long the two horses raced down the sandy shoreline, enjoying a brisk run.  When they reached the end both horses slowed back to a stately walk.

          The colonel pulled Belle up and sat, gazing out at the Pacific.  Matthew sat quietly for several minutes, then coughed quietly.

          Ironhorse reined the mare around and headed for the trail that would take them back to the barn.  "You're not a bad horseman," he commented.

          Matthew shrugged.  "My dad taught me."

          "I knew your father."

          "You did?"

          Ironhorse nodded.  "I met him in Vietnam.  He was a brave marine."

          "He never talked about the war," Matthew said.  "Beth, my step-mom, she was a nurse there.  Sometimes I'd hear them talking, but they'd change the subject when I'd come in."

          "They were trying to protect you."

          "I'm fifteen."

          The colonel gave the boy a lopsided grin.  "Sorry."

          "I miss them," Matthew admitted quietly.

          "I'm sure you do."

          "Are your parents alive?"

          "My mother is, but my father died when I was just a little older than you."

          "Were you mad at him?"

          Paul nodded slowly.  "But I didn't really know him.  He worked the oil rigs, he was gone most of the time.  But when I was your age my older brother died.  He was in an accident, like your parents, and I was plenty pissed at him."

          "Why?"

          "He'd been drinking.  He lost control of his pick-up and ran off the road, hit a telephone pole.  He and his wife were both killed, but their baby survived."

          Matthew rode along in silence before he asked, "Did you ever stop being mad?"

          "Eventually.  Having people there I could talk to helped."

          "You mean like the Trevors," Matthew said, his defenses starting to come up.

          "No, I mean like my mom and my grandfather.  But you do have the Trevors, and Harrison, if you decide to take advantage of that."

          "I'm afraid," the boy admitted.

          "Because you think loving them will mean they'll die?"

          He nodded, surprised that the soldier had seen through him so easily.

          "I'll tell you something, you're not the only one who's felt like that."

          "Harrison?"

          Paul nodded.  "Harrison, yes, and me, too."

          "You?" Matthew asked.  "Because of your brother?"

          "No, not Michael.  When I got back from Vietnam, I met a woman.  We fell in love and I asked her to marry me, but she was killed."

          "Wow," the boy said.

          "For a long time I was afraid to love anyone.  I thought if I did, something would happen to them.  That my loving them would mean they'd die."

          "Maybe you were right."

          "No."  Paul pulled Belle to a stop.  He turned in his saddle so he could face the boy, who had stopped alongside.  "I wasn't right, and neither are you.  I wasn't really afraid of someone else dying, I was just afraid of hurting like that again."

          "What's wrong with that?" Matthew demanded.

          "Did you like being with your dad?"

          Matthew nodded.

          "Did you like going riding, and celebrating Christmas, and having supper with him and your step-mom?"

          Another nod.

          "Did you love them?"

          "Yes!"

          "And that was a good feeling, wasn't it?"

          "Yeah."

          "Being afraid to love means not being able to love, it means giving up all those good feelings and good times.  It means staying angry and alone.  Life's a gamble.  Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, but if you don't play you'll never have the opportunity to win."

          "But losing hurts too much."

          "Would you trade all the good times with your mom and dad and Beth, erase them, all so when they died you didn't feel the pain and the loss?"

          "N-no."

          "Time really does dull the pain, Matthew.  And it does something else, too."

          "What?"

          "It makes all the good memories more precious and sweet.  It's normal to hurt.  It's normal to be mad, and sad, and afraid, but eventually you have to let those go.  And letting them go doesn't mean you're going to forget the good times."  He turned back, and clucked to the horse.  Belle tossed her head and trotted away.  "Think about it, okay?"

          "Yeah," was the pensive reply.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse rode Belle up to the barn at a slow canter.  Harrison stood at the corral fence, dutifully breaking a carrot into bite-sized pieces for Cimarron, a large buckskin gelding.

          "Matthew with you?" the scientist asked.

          "He was.  I think he needs a little time alone to think."

          "Deb said he was considering running again," Harrison explained.

          Ironhorse shook his head as he dismounted and led Belle to the correl.  Opening the gate he let her in and closed it behind her.  Tossing the reins over the fence, he tossed the stirrup over the saddle seat and tugged the cinch free, saying, "Maybe, but I don't think he is now."

          "Glad to hear it."

          Removing the saddle, Paul set it on the top rung of the fence and removed the mare's bridle.  Once free, Belle nipped at Cimarron, chasing him away so she could claim Harrison's last piece of carrot.

          "How's he doing?"

          Paul climbed through the fence and pulled the saddle down.  "He's hurting, but I think he's working his way through it."

          "God, I hope so."  Harrison ran a hand over the back of his neck.  "I don't want him to end up like me."

          Ironhorse paused, holding the saddle against his chest.  "Maybe you should tell him that."

          Blackwood nodded.  "I was trying to before we had to leave."

          "It's not too late."

          Harrison nodded, then headed back to the Cottage.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          He found Matthew in the living room, sitting on the floor in front of the small fire.  In an odd way, he reminded the scientist of Ironhorse – serious, pensive, and encased in his own aura, creating a barrier between his thoughts and feelings and the rest of the world.

          For the first time in months, Harrison paused long enough to consider how much he and Paul shared on some level he couldn't quite explain or comprehend.  Taking a deep breath, he continued to the couch and sat down.  Matthew didn't look up.

          Leaning back, Harrison tried to relax.

          "Do you still miss your mom and dad?"

          Harrison leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  "Yes, sometimes… sometimes more than others, but yes."

          Matthew's head nodded.  "Me, too.  The Trevors want me to come back, don't they?"

          "Yes.  They care about you a great deal."

          "I know.  Are they going to put me in that Challenger Program?"

          "Yes, I think so."  Harrison stood and walked to the fireplace, sitting down next to the boy.  "They think it'll help you."

          "I don't need a shrink," Matthew grumbled.

          Harrison chuckled.  "It's not that at all.  The program will give you a place to work out what you're feeling."

          "It's like being in juvie."

          "No.  Dan and Shone love you, and the people in the program care about you, and they want to help you.  I don't think that's the same as an institution."

          "I guess."

          "You can always give it a chance, you know, then make your decision."

          "What about you?" Matthew asked, finally meeting Harrison's gaze.

          "You're always welcome here, Matthew, but I'm not a parent.  I'm your cousin, and I can be a good uncle, if you let me work at it, but I can't be a father."

          The boy nodded.  "Okay.  An uncle sounds good."

          Harrison grinned.  "I'm glad."  Reaching out, he gripped Matt's shoulder and squeezed.  "Family isn't just blood," he said softly.  "It's also those you choose to love."

          Matthew scooted over and gave Harrison a tight hug.

          Blackwood returned the gesture, smiling.  "It won't be easy, but things do get better, and you have lots of people who want to help you, including me… especially me."

 


End file.
